Silver Sickle Series
by PoisonDraco
Summary: A series of first kiss stories. Revised.
1. Confused Crimson

All of her troubles had begun last night during a spontaneous game of Truth or Dare in the Gryffindor Common Room. Parvati and Lavender had taken to the game in fourth year, and the rest of the Gryffindors had never heard the end of it. Hermione felt that it could only lead to trouble, but Ron and Harry had broken her resolve by reminding her that she had finished her assignments for the next month. After much repetition of, "You should have finished your assignments as well, you two," they had convinced her to join the game. Hermione had abandoned her patrol of the girl's dormitories and sat in the circle with the rest of her classmates and the addition of Ginny.  
  
Hermione had been reluctant at first to join the game, and each time she was called upon she chose the innocuous truth. Eventually, though, she realized that she would end up in more trouble this way than by choosing dare. Within one hour she had already revealed such closely-guarded secrets as her short-lived crush on Dean, the time she had cheated on an Arithmancy quiz and the fact that she had actually denied Viktor Krum because she didn't want Ron to be angry with her.  
  
Within the next hour, there was a marked change in Hermione's behavior. She had actually joined in the ridicule when Neville had admitted that he fancied Snape, and that's why he was always so flustered in Potions. Hermione even got Parvati to admit that she had snogged Ernie Macmillian, and forced Ron to kiss Harry as punishment when he had refused to lick Lavender's neck ("Hermione, honestly, I think you've become a little kinky," he had said, his ears and face redder than Luna Lovegood's radish earrings.).  
  
Everyone was mildly stunned that Hermione had taken to the game so much, but no one more so than Ginny. She had sat down quietly in the circle so she wouldn't attract any attention, figuring that if Ron didn't notice her then he couldn't tell her she was too young to play. She was only one year younger than him, but since he had found out about Michael Corner, he had been playing the part of protective older brother.  
  
Ginny had waited a turn in silence, opting to watch the antics of her friends and housemates. She was definitely learning more things tonight then she ever had at the Order meetings. When Ron called on her to choose truth or dare, she was slightly taken aback. She could take anything he dished out. She had spent more time with the twins than Ron had, and could most certainly hold her own in a silly muggle game.  
  
"Dare," she ventured, feeling inconceivably brave. The last person to choose dare had been Lavender, who was currently looking very cross as she tried to un-knot the unnatural magenta hair that covered her head.  
  
Was it just her, or had someone gasped? They all looked at her expectantly.  
  
"Well, then, dear little sister. Why don't you..." Ron looked to Harry for support. Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Kiss Hermione on the mouth," he had concluded, looking triumphant.  
  
The gasp she heard this time definitely wasn't in her head. It was no matter to Ginny, who felt herself an expert in the subject of kissing. It wasn't as if she'd never kissed a girl before, either. She'd never kissed anyone who looked as if they were about to be bowled over by the Knight Bus, though.  
  
Hermione hadn't protested, but her indignation was obvious, and as Ginny crawled across the circle to Hermione, she found herself wanting to comfort Hermione, tell her everything would be OK, and that she wouldn't bite.  
  
Hermione sat, stock-still, as Ginny lowered her lips tentatively. Their lips met and Ginny pulled away immediately, looking as though she'd just caught a very elusive snitch in the pouring rain.  
  
"There, Ron. Didn't think I could do it?" Ginny smiled heartily and crawled back to her seat. Shock and awe crossed Ron's features.  
  
Feeling suddenly devious, Ginny called on Hermione.  
  
"Truth or dare?"  
  
Hermione weighed her options carefully. The look on Ginny's face suggested that her dare would be ruthless. Truth, on the other hand, seemed to be a solid option. How bad could it be?  
  
"Truth," Hermione offered confidently.  
  
Ginny strikingly resembled Malfoy at that moment, a perverse smirk spreading across her features.  
  
"Did you enjoy it?"  
  
Hermione hastily weighed her options once again. She could lie: put Ginny down as easily as possible. She could pretend she didn't understand the question: that would only delay the inevitable. Or, she could tell the truth: "A kiss is a kiss no matter who it came from, right?" she rationalized. If a boy had given her a good kiss, she would have admitted it, so what harm could it do to tell the truth?  
  
"Yes."  
  
The rest of the game had passed in a blur, with flashes of Neville's head stuck in the toilet and Dean and Harry having a grope in the linen closet. Everyone had found out that Parvati's biggest crush was Oliver Wood and that Dean had never been caught masturbating.  
  
Ginny hadn't thought any more about her kiss with Hermione. She was rightfully more embarrassed by the admissions of both Dean and Seamus, who had admitted that they fancied her. She took a seat in a plush armchair by the fire and rubbed her tired eyes, unwilling to walk up the stairs to her dormitory.  
  
"Brilliant, Ginny. Absolutely brilliant!" Seamus had exclaimed.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"The kiss! Hermione! It was truly a wonderful performance. Really realistic. Kind of kinky, too," Seamus had exclaimed in one breath. He winked at her pervertedly.  
  
"What are you talking about, Seamus? It was just a kiss," Ginny responded.  
  
"Just a kiss? You must really be a graceful, then?"  
  
"Course not. It's just a game, Seamus."  
  
"Whatever you say!" Seamus jumped towards the boys' dorms.  
  
Ginny's heterosexuality was a fact, something that didn't need thought nor questioning. Though Ginny had never technically asked, she simply knew that loads of her girl friends had kissed other girls. Everyone plays Truth or Dare, therefore everyone kisses someone of the same gender at some point in their life.  
  
As she drifted to sleep, Ginny wondered if most girls really didn't kiss their friends on a regular basis.  
  
In her room, Hermione was absently touching her lips as she stared at the ceiling of her four-poster, thinking about the kiss. Parvati and Lavender giggled as they perused a copy of Wizard's Quarterly on Parvati's bed, and they paid no mind to Hermione.  
  
Hermione had never kissed a girl before, though she had to admit that it wasn't that different from kissing a boy. Lips were lips after all, but she was sure she had felt something different in the brief moment that her lips had connected with Ginny's. Ginny had smelled sweet and her lips had seemed to taste slightly of mint. Hermione thought hard. Ron's lips were always chapped and his hands always roamed. It was enjoyable, being with him, but it wasn't exciting, she concluded. Was it supposed to be? Did she want it to be? Ginny had only kissed her once, but Hermione was already pondering the possibilities that the one kiss had held.  
  
Hermione drifted into a pleasant sleep.  
  
When she woke up, Ginny's first thought was "Where the hell am I?" followed closely by, "Is Seamus anywhere near? This must be his fault. Why else would I be on a chair in the common room? I must have been molested!"  
  
Rolling unceremoniously off the chair, she stood up and patted down her wild crimson hair. She stumbled up at least four flights of stairs, or had it been three? She climbed one more flight for good measure and opened the door. Noticing nothing amiss, she headed to her bed and threw open the curtains. What she found, though, wasn't a pile of books, parchment and Honeyduke's sweets strewn haphazardly across the unmade bed. Instead, she had opened the curtains to find an untidily sprawled Hermione with her skirt was twisted around her knees, socks askew, and her blouse halfway unbuttoned. Ginny gasped. What was Hermione doing in her bed dressed so indecently? Could that be why she had woken up in the chair? Had she an Hermione done...something else last night?  
  
"No," Ginny reasoned with herself. She had woken up in the chair because she was too lazy to walk up the stairs to her dorm last night. That still didn't explain why there was a very attractively flushed Hermione lying in her bed, which seemed to be completely devoid of all of her personal belongings. Come to think of it...was that Parvati in the next four-poster? This is nonsense!  
  
Ginny clambered out of the room before she woke any of the girls. She walked back down the stairs and opened the door into what she was sure was her dorm. The redhead didn't even open the curtains all the way before she dove in on top of all of her supplies. A book nudged her in the side uncomfortably. She pulled out the offending tome and tossed it onto the floor.  
  
Ginny couldn't get Hermione out of her head. Those lips, legs and the undeniably attractive chest. She reasoned that there had to be a lot of gay wizards. After all, bestiality wasn't uncommon, so how bad could being queer really be?  
  
If experimenting wasn't a problem, then the only one still left was the fact that Hermione most definitely wasn't. Ginny knew that Hermione would understand the situation if she presented her with some kind of statistics. Those were surely things a clever witch could understand. Ginny reckoned that facts were exactly what she needed to win Hermione's heart.  
  
Ginny sat a secluded table in a far corner of the library, hunkered over various tomes, all about one subject: Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender matters. She would have thought they would be four separate topics, but these books suggested that all four were linked. At least they were in the muggle world. Ginny's problem was finding anything about gay witches. Someone had to have written a book!  
  
She opened a volume entitled The Joy of Gay Sex. She was bombarded with images of men doing unspeakable things to each other, contorted into strange positions, and...could it be instructions to go with each picture? What surprised her more than descriptions and instructions were the scribbles she noticed in the margins.  
  
'Meet me in the locker room after practice. -G' 'Astronomy Tower at midnight. -D' and possibly most disturbingly... 'The dungeons, 8:00 sharp. -SS'  
  
How had anyone known whom the messages were for? Did they engage in orgies? Ginny slammed the book shut so hard that dust seemed to fly into every corner of the library. Madam Pince gave her an extremely dour glare.  
  
As Ginny reached for another book, she noticed someone quietly sit down at her table. Her head snapped up, "Who–!"  
  
"Just me, Ginny. Hannah thought I'd be able to find you in here. Said you had some research to do," answered Hermione as she sat down in the chair next to Ginny.  
  
Ginny swiped some of the books off the table, "Yeah. Some research."  
  
"What are you looking up? I'll help," Hermione offered.  
  
"Oh, just something for History of Magic. Nothing, really."  
  
"You've certainly got a lot of books. Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, noticing The Joy of Gay Sex. "What are you researching gay sex for?"  
  
"Well, no reason really. Thought it was something I might need to know about." Ginny fiddled with her hands.  
  
"Ah."  
  
The girls sat in awkwardly charged silence.  
  
One moment Ginny's leg had met with Hermione's as she shifted position, and the next thing they knew Ginny was leaning forward, he chair balancing on two legs and their lips were meeting for the second time. Such a tentative exploration of Hermione's lips was nothing she had ever experienced with Ron, and the sensation of riding Buckbeak was resting firmly in the pit of her stomach. Another lurch coursed through her gut as Ginny ventured to probe her lips with a soft tongue that tasted slightly of pumpkin juice.  
  
"Ahem!"  
  
The two sprung apart blushing immensely to find Seamus standing over them. Without saying a word, he picked up The Book and hauled it out of the library.  
  
Ginny and Hermione shared a laugh and leaned Ginny her chair towards Hermione once more. 


	2. Aged Orange

He's up for another late-night study session, but it's not surprising because this has happened many times before. Percy has locked the door to his room and is planning a sleepless night, locked away from the rest of his family, but he knows it doesn't make any difference to them.  
  
Percy concentrates completely on his work, focusing on the minutia that the Minister is so fond of as he writes, but Percy knows that this isn't what it used to be like – working at the Ministry, that is. He used to find pride in the kind words the Minister would extend to him, but he has long since moved passed those words. All he receives now are grunts, the only reminders that anyone realizes he exists at the Ministry, at home. There is no longer joy, but the necessity of keeping in the good graces of those above him. Percy has long since forgotten what it is like to smile a genuine smile. Each day is a constant struggle to please those around him, but that doesn't seem to be enough any more. His family looks at him with an air of disdain. Percy has always been the odd one out, but he is sure he senses hostility from his brothers, even Ginny – they'll never understand his plight.  
  
Ron is thumbing through Quidditch Through the Ages for what has to be the fiftieth time. He's probably read it as many times as Harry, if not more. There's nothing else to do in the Burrow over holiday break, aside from homework, but he saves that until he needs an excuse not to go shopping with Molly and Ginny. Ron wonders why the family is home this holiday, anyway. He had wanted to stay at Hogwarts with Harry and Hermione, but he came home just in case.  
  
As he stares at a picture of the Chudley Cannons' seeker doing a particularly good Wronski Feint, Ron realizes that there has never been anything that makes him happier than Quidditch. He still dreams of playing on the Gryffindor house team, but he has lost all hope. Ron knows he'll never be good enough in the eyes of his housemates because he never is.  
  
Dinner is always an interesting affair at the Weasley household. Fred and George are offering Ginny various concoctions that promptly turn her hair green or cause her to projectile vomit. Ginny is enjoying their antics, though.  
  
A fight breaks between Bill and Arthur, and for what is possibly the first time in their lives, Ron and Percy turn to each other and share an exasperated smile.  
  
Ron knocks carefully on Percy's door, not wanting his older brother to be angry at the intrusion. The door swings open, creaking softly, and Ron steps inside. Ron can't remember the last time he's been in this room, since he and Percy have never really gotten along. The brothers seem to balance on a line of friendliness and distaste at all times.  
  
Percy's room is in perfect order, which is not at all surprising. Books are alphabetized on shelves along the far well, his bed is perfectly made and even his desk is impeccable – quills are categorized by type of feather, and Ron has a feeling the inks are arranged by the order of the rainbow. Scrolls litter the surface in front of Percy, who is writing furiously, his brow furrowed. He bites his tongue, shoves a scroll to the left and pulls another in front of him.  
  
"Do you need something, Ronald?" Percy asks, not looking up from his papers, writing as frenetically as ever.  
  
"I just thought, well...you're not busy are you?" Ron fidgets under Percy's scrutinizing gaze, knowing the answer to his question.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Ron leaves just as carefully as he came.  
  
Percy feels bad for distancing himself from his family, but he can't help it. His family is everything that he must get away from if he wishes to move up in the Ministry. This leads him to wonder if his effort is worth it, because he is certainly no longer enjoying his work, but he knows that one day....One day, he will be the Minister of Magic.  
  
He wonders about Ron—Ron who always has so much fun with Harry and Hermione, Ron who always seems to have something to bicker about. Ron who always grumbles, but joins in all of the family activities, and when no one's looking actually gets along with Ginny. But Ron is just as exanimate as Percy these days. Percy wonders if Ron came to share his misery.  
  
The next day, Ron knocks on Percy's door again. It swings open, creaking. Percy is still scribbling, trying to finish a seemingly endless pile of paperwork.  
  
"Are you busy?" Ron wrings his hands, not really knowing why he seeks Percy's company.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Ron leaves as quietly as possible. He knows Percy doesn't feel bad about making him leave.  
  
Ron sits in his room and pulls out his History of Magic notes. He has to write a two-foot scroll on the Goblin Rebellions of 986, but he doesn't care. History of Magic is a worthless subject; even Percy would have to agree. Perhaps he can copy Hermione's when he returns to Hogwarts. He only has three days left until the start of term.  
  
At lunch, the twins are still acting up but Molly is smiling at all of her children – all six sons and a daughter. She is pleased with her family. She knows that very soon things will take a turn for the worse, but for now she is content to eat with her loved ones. Molly looks across the table at Ron and Percy, and notices that they share identical faces of discontent. Molly is concerned, but chalks it up to missing Hogwarts.  
  
Knocking on Percy's door has become habit for Ron. The door opens hastily this time but Percy is not at his desk writing papers. Nor is he rearranging his shelves. Instead, Ron finds him on the bed, shirt pulled up and pants pulled down just slightly. Percy is panting, his face red, hair askew and his back not even touching the bed, obviously enjoying himself immensely. Ron blushes and shuts the door quickly.  
  
Percy doesn't even notice the intrusion.  
  
Ron finds that there is one unfortunate side effect to seeing someone masturbate. Shutting and locking his rickety door, Ron walks to his bed, his erection already uncomfortable. He lays down and sheds his clothing. Ron relieves himself quickly.  
  
Percy can hear the moaning from his room. He half wishes Ron would use a silencing spell and half wishes that they could be together. Percy knows he shouldn't be having these thoughts, but he can't seem to stop them any more.  
  
Breakfast is relatively subdued, and everyone is tired as they eat. Molly doesn't worry about any her children because they all look horrible at this hour of the morning.  
  
Ron doesn't knock this time. He is hoping Percy will be at it again, but he is not. His older brother is at the desk again, but the pile of paperwork has shrunk considerably. The pens are as neatly arranged as always, and Ron was right – the inks are arranged by color.  
  
Percy greets him at the door, and Ron notices the mistletoe. Before he can consider why Percy has mistletoe hanging above his door, he is shocked by the sensation of lips upon his own. It is a pleasant feeling that he has never felt, not those times with Hermione or Lisa, nor the few with Harry. Ron has some vague idea of what fireworks are, and he's pretty sure they're going off behind his eyelids.  
  
It seems like Percy has been waiting his whole life for this kiss. Ron isn't talented, but he makes up for that with passion. Ron moans into Percy's mouth. Percy pulls his brother further into the room and shuts the door, but Percy knows that he cannot let this go any further, as much as he wishes to. He gently shoves Ron, who pouts silently.  
  
Ron leaves, trembling slightly, and shuts the door.  
  
Percy knows he'll be back. It's a hard habit to break. 


	3. Emerald Envy

Quidditch was his life. He lived it, breathed it, and dreamed it. There was nothing more exhilarating than being in the sky, the wind whipping past his face, the moment when the catch of the snitch was inevitable. Cedric's father had always told him that there was more to life than Quidditch. He should think about his future and finding a nice witch to settle down with.  
  
Cedric wasn't concerned with his schooling more than necessary. He made good grades, the teachers liked him, and he hadn't ever had a detention. Girls were a different story entirely. Though Cedric was kind, smart, and talented at Quidditch, it seemed that everyone had always passed him by. He wasn't worried though. His Hufflepuff mentality always served him well. He could continue to be optimistic. After all, there was someone out there for him.  
  
~~~  
  
He wished Quidditch could be his life. Ever since he'd found out he was a wizard, Harry Potter had been expected to defeat the most terrifying wizard in recent history. Voldemort was always first in his mind. Followed by Quidditch and the dreaded Potions. The only things that kept him grounded were his best friends Ron and Hermione. They always had some solution to Harry's biggest problems. Whether it was Hermione suggesting that he color- code his study schedule or Ron forcing him into a game of wizard's chess, there was always something to keep Harry's mind of the impending doom that is Voldemort.  
  
There were two things that Harry Potter envied: any new broomstick that he hadn't yet bought and Cedric Diggory. He loved his Firebolt dearly. Harry even thought that he might give his life for it. He kept it perfectly groomed, never letting so much as a twig get out of place. He kept the Firebolt by his bed, and made sure no one except Ron came within ten feet. Harry never thought it was obsessive, but the Firebolt was one of the few things he had to his name that meant something - just a broom and an invisibility cloak.  
  
Cedric Diggory was another story entirely. Harry didn't see much of the fifth year Hufflepuff, but he couldn't help envy what he did see. Cedric was an amazing Quidditch player. That was all it took for Harry to take notice. Harry was extremely good for his age. He could catch the snitch in record time, and Gryffindors often told him how wonderful his flying style was. For Harry it was all instinct. He didn't try to do anything, it just came to him. Being in the skies was as natural as breathing.  
  
But Cedric - Cedric flew like the wind itself. Even on a Nimbus 2001, he could out-fly Harry any day of the week. He maneuvered like a breeze through the treetops, whipping this way and that, diving and swerving. One thing that Harry noticed about Cedric was his concentration. The way he bit the side of his bottom lip as he surveyed the skies, the way he hunkered over the handle of his broom with white knuckles, and the definite ruffle to Cedric's hair were all undeniably...gorgeous.  
  
Harry didn't know when the first time he had thought of another boy as gorgeous, but it had been a kind of turning point. He was sure that many of the students at Hogwarts were gay, but it was just so sudden. Who would suspect the Boy Who Lived of being a poofter? It was just one more thing for Harry to be unsure about. No one saw him as Harry anyway. If anyone knew he was gay, what would they think of him then?  
  
~~~  
  
Harry stalked up the stairs from the dungeons where Snape had just destroyed any shred of hope he had in him for passing Potions. He'd been berated for an entire period about everything the greasy git could think of. As he rounded the last corner into the main corridor, Harry ran smack into something tall, broad, and.extremely fit.  
  
"Sorry," Harry mumbled as he rearranged his glasses and started to walk away.  
  
"Wait! Harry!" Cedric called as Harry dashed away, blushing fiercely.  
  
Harry turned around slowly. Was Cedric going to get mad? His day couldn't possibly get any worse.  
  
"I just...well, Harry, beat Slytherin, all right? Hufflepuff can't stand a loss to Slytherin. We can deal having less house points than Gryffindor, but..." Cedric gave Harry a strange smile. "You get my point, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"See you around, then, Harry." Cedric smiled strangely again as he walked away.  
  
~~~  
  
Gryffindor had Quidditch practice at 8:00pm sharp. Wood always managed to book the pitch before the sun rose and right before it fell. As the team swept around the pitch practicing moves, Harry flew laps high above. Wood seemed to trust him to train his eyes and agility, not often including him in their formation practice.  
  
Harry dove down to watch the proceedings of the team, but mostly kept to himself. He didn't even notice when someone pulled up beside him. That someone brushed his arm and Harry turned on his broom swiftly to find none other than Cedric Diggory hovering beside him.  
  
"What? Why? This is Gryffindor practice," Harry exclaimed indignantly. "You're not spying, are you?"  
  
"Just because I'm not a Slytherin doesn't mean I can't be stealthy if I want to cheat."  
  
"Oh," Harry ended lamely. "What are you doing up here, then? It's almost curfew."  
  
"I, well...I'm not sure exactly. Something just told me I should talk to you."  
  
Harry was speechless. He just clung onto his broom and looked at Cedric. The same strange smile crept onto Cedric's face, but as he started flying towards Harry, Wood's voice boomed through the stadium. "Curfew. Showers and back to the castle!"  
  
Before Harry could say a word to Cedric, he was gone.  
  
~~~  
  
Ron and Hermione didn't bother to ask Harry why he looked so sullen. They knew when to push and how far before Harry would clam up and stalk away. This was one of those times when a single prod might cause him to snap shut. Harry went to the dorms alone and contemplated quietly uninterrupted that night. There wasn't much to think about, but there was one thing of which he was sure: Harry wanted to share his first kiss with Cedric Diggory.  
  
Harry wasn't sure where that thought had originated. Certainly the desire hadn't been there before. It definitely wouldn't be Cedric's first though, and Harry didn't know if that should worry him. What if he did it all wrong? What if Cedric never looked at him again because he wasn't good enough?  
  
Being thirteen and in the middle of puberty didn't help things at all. Harry was constantly thinking about sex or actively engaging in it (with himself, of course). He thought the whole 'growing up' thing was a wretched idea created simply for the fun others got from watching young boys (and the occasional girl) suffer.  
  
Harry placed a silencing charm on his four-poster. As he wanked that night, running his thumb along the shaft and pulling just-so, he thought about Cedric with that strange but beautiful smile spreading across his face and the dark hair that was oh-so-fine and laid perfectly all time. It didn't take long, and when he was done, he administered a cleaning spell and changed into pajamas. He drifted into a rare night of pleasant dreams. His insatiable teenage mind offered plenty of compromising positions all night long.  
  
~~~  
  
Cedric Diggory didn't often find himself in such a precarious position. And said positions never involved younger boys. They certainly didn't involve the Boy Who Bloody Lived. He had taken opposition of the parents to an entirely new level. When his father had told him to find a witch to settle down with, his brain had apparently decided that 'No,' it didn't want a woman. Cedric wanted a man, if only for the simple reason that such a thing could infuriate Cedric's father.  
  
He sighed warily. Things never seemed to go quite right. Never badly, he supposed, but never right to the point where he could be proud he'd accomplished something properly. Maybe his father wouldn't kill him if he brought home a lad. It wasn't even worth thinking about if he couldn't get said lad to even look at him.  
  
~~~  
  
Gryffindor was to play Slytherin that afternoon. Harry was nervous as always and poked at his kippers during breakfast as Wood bombarded the team with the usual "rousing" pep talk and proper amount of berating. Fred and George made faces every time Wood looked away, and even sometimes when he was looking straight at them. Such were the usual pre-game antics.  
  
The game itself was nothing out of the ordinary. Malfoy tried to scare Harry with his Dementor impressions. A well-placed Wronski-Feint took Draco by surprise, but as Harry pulled out of his impressive dive, the snitch literally hit him in the face. Wood would have killed him. Harry pulled the flitting gold ball off his face and raised it in triumph. The stands erupted mostly in praise.  
  
Harry grinned stupidly and flew down to meet his team and take a shower.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry never made it to the showers. He was ambushed as he walked past the stands and pushed against the Ravenclaw banners. He would have been uncomfortable if it weren't for the hot, sweet lips that were pressed so fervently against his. His first kiss and he hadn't even seen it coming!  
  
He pushed away almost fiercely. "What!?" And then he noticed whom it was doing the kissing. Harry blushed a shade of crimson that would do the Gryffindor banners shame.  
  
"God. I'm so sorry, Harry! I thought..."  
  
But Harry threw his arms around Cedric's shoulders and pulled him back. He kissed the Hufflepuff clumsily at first, unsure of himself, but when Cedric responded by licking his lower lip, Harry assumed he'd done something right.  
  
Cedric pulled away slowly. "How about we finish this after you've had a shower?"  
  
Harry nodded, "A cold one."  
  
~~~  
  
Maybe Cedric wouldn't be able to bring Harry home to his father, but he certainly thought that something had gone completely right for him. The only matter left to attend to was the cold shower. Cedric wondered if joining Harry would defeat the purpose.  
  
Cedric thought hormones could be damned as he walked stealthily towards the Gryffindor locker room. 


End file.
